Half Innocent
by SnowShadowuser
Summary: We all knew the world was going to end. Well, here’s another reason besides global warming: Demons… abnormally strong, cunning, ultra sexy beings with a strong bloodlust. Hey, it’s either hot demons or nuclear bombs. [InuKag] AU
1. Prologue: The Other Half

**AN: **Sweet, sweet Half-Innocent. I wrote this even before beginning _The Life of a Devil_, but then it was savagely deleted by the cold hands of injustice… They shall remain unnamed.

Ahem…

Please enjoy the revamped version of this Half-Innocent.

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**Published: 11/3/02**

**Completed: 7/8/03**

**Deleted: 5/2/05**

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**Half Innocent**

Prologue:

_The Other Half_

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-…_Present Day: _**12:01:29 PM**_…_-

**-**

She was dying.

Water gushed through the gashes and holes; once an impenetrable flying machine, now a steel cage sinking to the abysmal ocean floor.

Kagome waded towards the nose of the plane, her left arm hanging limply by her side, her right hand tightly clutching the damned jewel around her neck. An ooze of blood from the wound on her temple trickled down her cheek and to her chin, where it paused before dripping into the knee-high seawater.

The water rose, however, and soon it was waist high, movement increasingly difficult.

"Ah," Kagome stumbled, cutting her knee on something wickedly sharp in the water.

Her vision blurred before she reached the first row of seats. What once used to be the 1st class cabin was a burning prison cell. By now, they must've been at least twenty meters underwater.

The 15 year-old stepped back when a fistful of exposed wirings fell down from the ceiling, dangling barely a foot above the water now reaching her chest. Kagome had to paddle around the electrical circuits.

She pulled open the curtains separating the space between the cabin and the cockpit.

The door to the nose of the aircraft was half open. Kagome tried to widen the gap, and after that failed she tried to squeeze through, but something was stubbornly blocking the door. The water was coming up to her chin. She was desperate – her instincts kicked in.

She inhaled and, without hesitation, dived into the water.

Thankfully, because she had long hair, she did not notice the object caught beneath the door, hindering her escape. It was a man's shoe; and part of the man's appendage was still inside.

She hugged the wall and began to drag her numb body over the side of the door. She didn't know when it had happened – the plane had pitched backward, the nose of the plane somehow resurfacing above the bloody water. But it wouldn't last long.

Kagome gasped; mouth now above water after she finally got her head and shoulders through the small space. With a fierce kick she managed to get her entire body through the narrow doorway. The water was still rising.

She awkwardly stood up on the wall of the plane. The seat where the pilot once sat was now above her head, and the cockpit door was steps away, left open like a trick door on a stage floor.

The cabin beginning to flood, she had to think fast.

Kagome's grasp on the jewel was a death grip; knuckles turning white and fingers reddening in defiance unlike any other. Only humans so intent on living, on survival, knew the true feeling of absolute desolation.

In her right hand, she felt the pang of the pink jewel before it cracked.

-

-…_2 months earlier…_-

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"Guardianship?"

Higurashi Kagome was no longer a child. Today, perhaps the gloomiest day of her life, was her 15th birthday. She wore the typical mourning attire one would dress in for a funeral and thereafter. She was unusually pale; not the cheerful girl her family grew to love.

Outside the large Victorian window, rain poured down with no sign of breaking. It was a sluggish day.

And all because of her death.

Kikyou's death, to be more exact.

"Your relative," the lawyer started, sitting comfortably behind his oak desk. "Wanted _you_ to take on the duty of Guardianship. It is a great honor, Miss Higurashi; only three others have ever laid hands on such priceless finery before you. Midoriko Miko, then her descendant, Kaede Miko, and then her granddaughter, Kikyou Miko."

She watched the balding man lean back on his black leather chair. He seemed to be waiting for a reaction.

What was she supposed to think?

Kagome had just attended a funeral, on her birthday of all days, and now she was supposed to take ownership of an incredible artifact, specifically requested by a dead relative she didn't know she had until today.

"What about Kaede?" she spoke up. "Kikyou's sister, I mean. The little Kaede."

The old man scoffed. "Please. She's hardly a preteen. She wouldn't be eligible for such a burden, even if Miss Miko had written it down herself."

"So that's it," Kagome felt cold all of a sudden. "I'm supposed to take care of this jewel until my death?"

"Exactly," he nodded with a smile. "Never mind the offers you will undoubtedly receive; not to mention the threats… and death warnings no less… You must have it with you at all time."

"That's a lot of pressure."

"And you will not forget it," the lawyer leaned in, his casual smile replaced by a very sullen look as he held his hands before his mouth. "This is a serious matter, Miss Higurashi. You will need to protect it with your life: Simply because that jewel's existence is much more significant than yours."

"Yeah," her smile was humorless. "Look at Kikyou."

-

-…_3 weeks later…_-

-

"_Could you explain that again?"_

Kagome sighed. "I told you Souta, she's your 4th cousin."

The new Guardian was in her hotel room, busy packing her belongings and souvenirs. This would be her 5th hotel change since last week.

From her cell phone, affixed between her right ear and shoulder, came a very audible groan.

"_How does that work?"_

"You know Cousin Sato?" Kagome tripped on a footstool and blundered into the nightstand.

"_Yeah, so?"_

"Well, his cousin, Kari, has a cousin… Kari's our 2nd cousin, by the way."

"_Oh," _he said slowly. Kagome knew her little brother wasn't following.

"Just think of it this way – our cousin's, cousin's, cousin, has a cousin. That would be Kaede. Oh, she's about your age, so you two should get along great. She's a bit serious, though. And her plane's supposed to be in Tokyo soon – like in an hour. So remember to tell her NOT to touch my underwear drawer, OK?"

"_How long will she be here? In our house? In your room?"_

"I don't know," she dumped her last bag of clothes into her suitcase and tried to close it shut. Needless to say, it was ineffective. "She'll be in the guest room as soon as I get back… but she'll probably be in our house until she goes off to–"

"_College," _Kagome could see him knowingly smile on the other end.

"Be patient with her. Please? She just lost her sister; she's basically an orphan."

"_I know, I know," _there was a pregnant pause before he continued. "_But when are_ you _coming back?"_

Kagome stopped and sighed. She sat down on the bed before answering. "In a month or so. It's hard to book a flight when you have 10 stalkers breathing down your neck." She then promptly got up and kicked her two duffel bags to the door, taking out her aggression in a healthy manner.

She waited for an answer.

All she got was static.

"Hello?"

"_I just have a bad feeling about all this…"_

Kagome's warm smile was reassuring, visible or not. "I'm sure everything will be fine. Besides, I'm in Shanghai," she clicked her tongue. "It's hardly a sea away."

-

-…_Present Day: _**11:56:07 AM**_…_-

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"**What's going on?"**

Kagome's scream was drowned out by another explosion. Reading lights burst and oxygen masks plopped out of the ceiling – and in the midst of it all, the overhead compartments began to open up one by one.

The plane lurched again.

Passengers screamed, trying to unbuckle their seatbelts out of irrational fear. Luggage flew into seats and people alike, one of them knocking out an elderly man sitting two seats away from Kagome.

"AGH!" Kagome ducked before a rogue tray boomeranged above her head.

Suddenly, she felt a horrible burning sensation on her right temple. She'd been hit.

"How…?" Kagome whispered, wiping the blood away from her eye.

Then there was another explosion.

Kagome flew out of her seat, the seatbelt torn from her waist. She landed on the aisle, her head painfully connecting with a seat handle. That was when Kagome lost feeling in her left arm.

She dragged her body up the aisle, getting kicked and stepped on by other desperate passengers. There were so many legs clambering out, attacking her, abusing her bruised body.

There were so many shrieks, all deafening, unbearable and shrill. They wanted out.

They wanted salvation.

"Stop it!" she screeched, again, kicked in the head. "**STOP IT!"**

Then, there was one last, huge explosion, engulfing the tail of the plane in unimaginable combustion. It was like an earthquake, but more powerful than anything she had ever experienced back in Japan, her home country.

Kagome saw them fly away, ripped out of their seats and dragged back to the rear of the plane. Like rag dolls, dozens of legs and arms flailing in a last ditch effort to grab onto something, anything.

People somehow staying immobile cried out when their seats began to shook, starting to fall out of the screws that made it stationary.

How did this happen? How could this be happening?

Kagome instantly grabbed the jewel, acknowledging its presence around her neck, holding onto it as if it was her lifeline.

They had gone far too off course. Their plane had been delayed. They should've reached Narita Airport 2 hours ago.

They were lost.

And now they were falling.

Kagome felt the floor shake, violent and rapid like a tremor, the walls of the plane vibrating repeatedly. Then, unexpectedly, her body shot into the air. The plane was falling tail first; a nearly impossible phenomenon.

Her grip on the jewel tightened. Still floating, she began to breathe normally.

"Just stop," she muttered. "Just stop."

The clash of burning metal hitting the cold surface of the ocean was horrendous. Like a nuclear bomb, no screams followed. Giant waves traveled out from the point of impact; if seen from above, it would've been like a ripple taking form on a still pond. Many disappeared when the plane hit water. Others drowned, pinned to their seats by luggage or due to injuries.

Even the pilots had been sucked out of their seats, one of them loosing his shoe and foot.

Kagome… she opened her eyes after the plane started sinking.

_Get out._

A voice cried in her head.

_Get out._

Kagome crawled forward.

_Get out._

Kagome's muscles tensed. Her heartbeat and blood pressure increased. Her adrenaline soared.

_Get out._

Self-preservation. Fear of annihilation.

_Get out._

Fear of death.

"Live," she hissed, getting to her knees.

Water poured into the economy cabin.

She stood up, staggering to her feet. Her hands were cold. Her head was spinning.

But the jewel. The damned pink jewel had an unearthly aura about it. It was feeding on her will to live. On her life. On her soul.

She was dying.

-

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**AN: **Like I'm going to kill off Kagome in the prologue. -.- This sure is turning out to be an action flick, huh? Well, never fear! Because it is I, Snowgirl, who's writing this story. So you just know there's going to be humor in here somewhere.

Next chapter – …ah… Chapter 1? …darn, gotta think of a title…

Ciao and Adieu!


	2. Halfway Lost

**Half Innocent**

Halfway Lost

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All at once nations worldwide realized what had happened.

Two European cruise ships suddenly disappeared from radar. Five American airplanes lost contact in one spontaneous moment. Three earthquakes ravaged Shanghai, China, and Kyoto, Japan. Seven tornadoes rose in Moscow, Russia en masse, down to the last second.

The first casualty, however, was in Paris, France, around 2 AM in Western European Time.

As the new nightshift guard quietly strolled the dark premises of the building with a single flashlight and baton hanging from his belt, he did not notice one of the passing doors gently swing open; like a childish specter peeking inside, sneaky and naughty.

It was the Louvre Museum, one of the largest and most famous museums in the world. The building, a former royal palace, lies in the center of Paris between the river of Seine and the famous street of Rue de Rivoli. Among the thousands of priceless paintings inside the Museum was the famed Mona Lisa. On that night, however, the enigmatic smile had vanished. An almost piercing, ferocious aura fell upon the woman's ungodly gaze. Her eyes swiveled, crazily and hungrily.

The footsteps echoing in the halls abruptly letup, the guard sensing something amiss… If he had decided to cower, had decided to run in fear right then and there, he might've been saved. But because he was determined, because he was new to this line of work, he knew no hesitancy. That would be his downfall.

Slowly and surely he turned around and headed for the stairs. Behind him, a shadow darted across the creamy white ceiling.

The guard continued, trying to remember the nightshift procedures if there was ever an emergency. He entered a large unlit room before his flashlight died. While he incoherently grumbled about his good-for-nothing batteries, something soft and warm grazed the back of his knee.

"_Qui-est ce?" _(Who is it?)

He was met by silence. The only thing he could do at the moment was to wait for his eyes to adjust. Sadly, that was one second too long.

He whirled around, hearing a low rumble from the other side of the room. A second louder rumble shook the floor, the vibration nearly painful to bear.

Among the well-known sculptures in the museum's collection were the Winged Victory of Samothrace and the Venus de Milo. Venus de Milo was an ancient Greek statue believed to depict Venus, the Greek goddess of love and beauty. A marble sculpture, slightly larger than life at 203 cm high, not including its missing arms.

The base she had stood on was currently empty. It was as if she had simply walked away…

The guard fell to his knees, the floor convulsing as if mines were exploding underneath the tiles. He looked up, eyes now dilated.

Before him was the towering sculpture of the Greek goddess Nike, known as the Winged Victory of Samothrace. It stood 10.7 ft, including the wings, standing on the prow of a ship, representing the goddess as she descended from the skies to the triumphant fleet.

The marble wings pulsated.

Despite the fact that the figure was significantly damaged, missing its head and outstretched arms, the masterpiece still held an alluring ambience. The tattered clothing on the sculpture fluttered in the nonexistent wind.

Shocked and in denial, the guard watched the moving embodiment step off its pillar. Like an angel of death, it glided down to the floor and to the guard, feeling his presence; feeding on his breath.

"_C'est trop tard."_ (It's too late.)

Blood spilled exactly half past two.

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"They're denying it!"

The news room was hectic as ever. The newscaster was still getting his hair combed even as he sat down, rustling the random papers handed minutes before. Cameras were wheeled to their position, three cameramen yet to arrive, and the Teleprompters were still being adjusted. The newsman dismissed the makeup artist before rereading the report.

"The government denies any rumors of unexplained homicides, mysterious kidnappings, or even the vanishing aircrafts, ocean liners, and spaceships… what the hell?" he cursed. "This is complete bull! What about the missing planes? Or the killings in Europe? I'm supposed to go along with this crap?"

"_We're on in 10!"_

He reorganized the papers and rechecked the notes. "Ludicrous. Absolutely ludicrous." Seconds ticked away.

"_In 5!"_

"And I'm supposed to be trustworthy."

"_Four!"_

"I should've become a doctor."

"_Three!"_

"Two," he mumbled, counting along.

"_One!"_

—

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Souta Higurashi stared, shocked and unmoving.

That's how Grandpa found his grandson, lying on his back and watching the TV upside down on the carpet. For a moment he wondered if that would help his own back problems before responding properly as an adult.

"Souta, what are you doing?"

His grandson awkwardly pointed at the TV. "American News Network…"

Grandpa watched the scene. "That's not News."

"He's fighting off two worms."

"Worms?" his eyes bulged. "They're the size of cars!"

"Yeah, they must feed them a _lot_ in America!"

The two watched as one of the cameramen wiggle into the ensuing struggle, jump onto one of the worms, taking off his shoe and raising it above his head while clutching the fat lips of the beast, sharp jagged teeth lining the inner cavity, and—

—then the lights went out.

"Oh!" the two groaned in unison.

There was a feminine scream from the kitchen before the lights flickered back on; that is, before deciding to shut down altogether.

"It can't be a blackout," Souta managed to mumble out before Grandpa stood up.

"This is a demon at work!" he yelled. "Everyone, get into position!"

"What position?"

"You," Grandpa blindly pointed to his grandson (in reality he was pointing at the coffee table). "You must scout the grounds for intruders!"

"What?" the little boy frowned. "What about Kaede?"

A pregnant pause.

"Oh…right. Orphan. Sorry."

"That's all right, my boy. You have yet to understand the framework of a young female mind."

"…okay."

"Now get scouting!"

"Why me?"

"Because you're the man of this household!"

"…and you're not?"

A momentary pause. Then a very loud crash.

"Grandpa?"

"Grandpa has left the room!" his voice came from the hallway. "Leave the second floor to me!"

There was an audible slam, followed by another crash. Souta sighed and crawled out of the living room. More nimble than his grandpa, he maneuvered around the dark room like a cat.

"I do all the work around here," he quietly whined. "Why can't sis pick up the slack?"

Never mind she was now the official guardian of a sacred jewel. Never mind she went missing two days ago with the rest of the passengers of Flight 234. She was still his sis. And he knew she was still alive.

He faltered when something dashed past him.

"Buyo?"

It couldn't be the housecat – he was still being groomed. Unnerved, he decided to disobey and turned for the kitchen, intent on retreating and cowering behind his good old reliable mom.

"Ma–"

Souta felt an incredible force push him back, a sharp blow to the abdomen leaving him dazed. Caught off guard, he hardly noticed slamming into the door situated down the hall; that is, until he smashed his head on the wood, leaving a visible crack as he sled down to the floor.

Head still spinning, he analyzed the situation and scrambled to his knees while reaching for the doorknob. If a mad murderer was inside the house then he needed to get _out_ of the house.

His fingers hardly brushed the steel handle before his small body was lifted in the air, legs and arms dangling as the attacker loosely held him by the back of his shirt.

"No," Souta groaned, a little dazed from the beating. "Let go!"

Souta's protests went unnoticed. The assailant opened the door and promptly marched out of the house, easily holding onto little Souta as if he was a bag of grocery.

"Help!" Souta screamed, mouth going dry. "Mama! Grandpa!"

"Don't even bother."

The angry response sent chills down his spine.

The world seemed to stand still. The city of Tokyo was usually noisy and bustling with drunks and tourists, but, tonight, it was deathly hushed and lifeless, almost like an unearthly veil suffocating the life out of the city normally thriving beneath their shrine.

Souta lashed out, uselessly thrashing under the captor's grip. "Let me go! LET ME GO!"

And that's what happened. Souta fell on his face with his arms and legs sprawled out, somewhat comically and still very painfully. Souta picked himself up, groaning, and he was met by a snort.

"A real Higurashi, aren't you?" there was a resigned sigh. "Get up."

Souta turned to face the man, terror and fury fighting for dominance inside his mind and gut. Terror won out when he saw the barrel of a 12 gage shotgun pointed at his forehead.

"I said," he growled behind his ski mask, _"get up."_

Souta obediently got on his feet despite his trembling knees and labored breathing.

"Our ride's waiting. Start moving." He pointed his gun to the steps of the shrine.

From one of the second floor windows, a girl watched the little boy slowly descend down the steps with the abductor following behind him. She stayed leaning on the windowsill with a placid expression on her pale face. She heard an engine start in the distance and tires skidding on the ground before speeding out of the street. She stayed frozen, watching the dark city with a disinterested look.

"You know," a mysterious figure said, "your little cousin's just been kidnapped."

Kaede slowly turned to the man sitting on the branch next to her window. His head and forehead was mostly shadowed by the leaves, but that didn't hide his boyish face or his ethereal hair. He sat with his arms and legs crossed on the thick branch, a slow sneer stretching across his face. Two amber eyes examined the land before rising to scrutinize the girl, fixated on the child that was detached from the world.

"You don't care, do you?"

She shook her head. "I'm surprised you made it here. The Guardian didn't even make it past the East Sea."

"You have a way," he smirked, "with changing topics. I suppose you get that from your sister."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," Kaede's fingers traced the bandages wrapped around her right eye. "How did you arrive? The water tribes must be warding the seas by now."

"I'm a very persuasive guy," he leaned back on the tree. "They let me hitch a ride on a whale demon. You know how docile they are."

Kaede bowed her head. "It's a shame the Guardian didn't make it. I apologize for the inconvenience."

"Kind of glad she isn't here. She's probably one of those prissy schoolgirls. Modern times screwed up most of the humans, if not all."

The little girl made a noise, thoughtfully, not disagreeing with his speculation. "The new Guardian didn't have time to train. Her powers have not come into maturation."

"And the family?"

"They have barely enough sutras to protect the shrine. You saw what happened to the boy. I'll have to do my best to protect the two adults. They'll wake up in a few hours."

"The boy?" he yawned.

"He's safer as a hostage. I doubt the captors will harm him; it's either them or the demons."

"I'm amazed they didn't find you upstairs. They must be really sloppy," he held the branch for support and got on his feet. "So what now?"

"We must retrieve the Guardian." Her voice was definite. An unquestionable order.

"And when you say 'we', you mean… me," he sighed. "Yeah, it's this again. If she's alive, I fetch the Guardian. If she's not, I fetch the Jewel. And her body. For the sake of the family, right?"

"You have an obligation to aid the Guardian in her time of need. Ever since the first Kaede."

"And she's the first Guardian I had the honor of bringing back dead," he examined Kaede's face. "By the way, I like that new look of yours. You might need an eye patch. Then you'll actually _look_ like the second Guardian, not just have the same name."

"Maybe it's supposed to be this way," she cleared her throat. "I'm the next Guardian after Kagome."

"Then good luck to you, squirt," the enigmatic man stood on his bare feet and crouched, an animalistic habit. "The North Pacific Ocean, right?"

"The North Atlantic Ocean, actually."

He paused. Anyone else would've questioned her knowledge. Kagome had been traveling from China to Japan on a short flight. If something had gone wrong, there was a slight possibility that she had ended up past the islands of Japan and in the North Pacific Ocean, east of Japan. However, if she was supposed to be in the North Atlantic Ocean, her flight would've had to pass the Americas, or gone the completely opposite direction and traveled through China and Kazakhstan after takeoff.

But he knew Kaede, and Kaede was a very shrewd girl.

She watched him leap out of the tree and disappear into the shadows, leaving an unexplainable emptiness in Kaede and the shrine. Kaede sat quietly, staring out the open window. The stars shimmered in the pitch black darkness, the only calmness the world knew at the moment. Dead, crinkled leaves littered the cement ground. She'd have to start sweeping tomorrow.

"Out of all the Guardians," she whispered as the wind picked up the leaves, "you loved Kikyou the most."

—

–

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Kagome was one of the passengers inside the fuselage.

Everything was vivid. The doors. An electrical malfunction allowed the doors to burst open while at cruising altitude. Everything was vacuumed out the doors. Windows cracked, bodies sucked out through the small holes to unimaginable death. Shoes flew everywhere. To live, she ignored the screams. To live, she moved forward.

Kagome opened her eyes.

To put it simply: She felt like crap. Her hair was wet, her wet clothes clung to her wet skin, and it was hellishly cold. The waves tormented her again and again. Her shoulder was sore as well as her ankles and forehead. She blinked. Her world was discolored and unstable. She couldn't straighten her reality. The sky was an odd hue of violet, and the sand was neon yellow. Then it all stopped.

Kagome picked herself up, getting to her hands and knees. Drip, drip. Her hair masked her bloody face and her body shuddered involuntarily. She was sure one of her body parts was mangled. Shuddering again, she parted her hair. The wound on her forehead was gone. It had healed?

She turned around and sat down, exhausted. Her legs were numb, but still moved. Her shoulders ached, but were not injured. She was covered in blood, but she was not hurt. It made no sense.

Kagome looked at her hands, for people in these kinds of situations examined their hands first. Her left hand was fine, but her right hand was raw. There was a visible indentation shaped like a half moon on her palm. She wiggled her fingers. They were fine too.

Then, instinctively, she looked down. The jewel worn around her neck was cracked in half. That's when panic settled in.

"Aw man," she moaned. The lawyer's words hauntingly repeated inside her head.

"_You will need to protect it with your life: Simply because that jewel's existence is much more significant than yours."_

She survived. But the jewel hadn't made it unscathed.

It was absolute mockery. Lady Luck was toying with her. Fate was laughing at her. Worst of all, she was extremely hungry. Which was odd, because she remembered eating the in-flight meal before everything came crashing down. Nothing made sense. Why wasn't she scarred? Why wasn't she dead? She felt weak and hungry… and really thirsty. But that still didn't explain why she didn't have any cuts or broken bones.

The plane was no where in sight. She looked out into the ocean, the sun shining brilliantly over the flat beach. It was also a bleak day. Still, it was better than staring at a ghastly sight of corpses and body parts. The only thing that made real sense was the jewel. Understandably, something that fragile and precious would break in a spectacular plane crash.

"_¡Oye, ven acá!_"

Kagome snapped her head back, giving her a mild whiplash which earned a very loud curse. She held her neck and looked around, dazed. A man wearing an eccentric outfit was running towards her. And he was holding a rope.

"_¡Oye, ven acá!_" (Hey you, come over here!) He repeated as he rushed to her side, threateningly holding up the rope with a deceptive smile on his bony face.

She stared. Kagome had no idea what this nutcase wanted to do with her, and she didn't want to find out. She got to her knees and stood up shaking. Kagome turned around. And shrieked. The nutcase was in front of her.

"But…" Kagome uttered. "But you were… just behind… and now you're… front?"

_"Oye joven."_ He smirked with false courtesy. His hands shot out, and before Kagome could step away she found her wrists firmly bound together. _"¿Cómo te llamas?"_

"What?" she knew he asked her a question. But she never heard this kind of language. At least never in Japan or China…

"_La tengo."_ (I have it.) He yelled, waving at someone behind her.

She turned and met with a horrific sight. Rows and rows of girls stood disdainfully behind numbers of men dressed in the same, unusual outfit. Girls of different origins, short, tall, wide, thin, blond, brunet, maybe red haired, maybe freckled, waited impatiently with scowls and glowers on their faces. All of them were bound to a single chain, forced to stand barely apart from one another.

"What's going on?" she turned back to the foreigner. "What're you doing?"

Kagome saw it. Their eyes connected and he stared. Then his pupils dilated and constricted inhumanly. And he smiled knowingly. He was not human.

She stayed stunned as the foreigner dragged her to the girls. She stayed stunned while the foreigner tied her to the chain. She stayed stunned as the men pushed her forward, forced to follow the line. They weren't human. And she wasn't in Japan.

"Demons," she whispered.

And grimaced. What could possibly go wrong now?

A drop of rain answered that question. Kagome looked up as the clouds began to gather overhead. Another droplet on her nose. An unsettling breeze. Soon it was pouring on the beach.


End file.
